


Doubt Thou The Stars

by lil_tonberry



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Atlantis: The Lost Empire Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ardyn is actually a good guy, Atlantis AU, Established Prompto/Gladio, M/M, Mentioned Lunafreya/Nyx, i'm living for a lunafreya/gladio friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-10-18 00:50:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10605858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_tonberry/pseuds/lil_tonberry
Summary: Atlantis: The Lost Empire AUOver 2000 years ago, the Great War of Old between the Astrals lay waste to the united nation of Solheim. In order to protect its people, the Crystal chooses one of royal blood to sacrifice and thus the Lucian city of Insomnia becomes lost beneath the waves.In the present day, after years of research and study, Ignis Scientia gains possession of a sacred journal which he believes will lead him and his expedition group to the lost city of Insomnia. He expects to find ruins marking the existence of the city but finds something far greater than himself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you've ever watched the masterpiece that is Disney's Atlantis: The Lost Empire, you know what you're letting yourself in for. It should be pretty linear but in case it isn't, here's a brief preface: The Great War of Old between the Astrals causes the destruction of Solheim, Aulea is sacrificed to protect the Lucian city of Insomnia and the Crystal prolongs the lives of the Insomnians for over 2000 years. 
> 
> I based the ancient Insomnians' clothing on traditional Japanese clothing since FF is a Japanese franchise and please, can we just imagine Noct in full kimono, haori, and hakama?

  _“Quickly, your Majesties! In here!” Cor Leonis, the King’s advisor and Head of the Crownsguard, ushers the royal family towards the shelters. The Great War of Old between the Astrals rips Solheim in twain. In his betrayal, Ifrit scourges the earth with his fierce fires and in retaliation, Leviathan summons all the waters of the Eos to extinguish his flames in floods. Not much is known about Tenebrae, Accordo, or Niflheim, whether or not they have been able to withstand the costs of war. But in light of how Lucis, the greatest nation of them all, is waning, fears are that they have been crushed underneath the heel of the Astrals._

 _Regis is the first into the shelter but refuses to go further in until both his wife and son are with him. He reaches out for them, fighting against Cor’s hold on him. “Let me go to my family, Cor!” Regis demands._ _His advisor winces, wanting nothing more than to let the king go, but remains steadfast in following his commands in desperate times such as these._

_Amidst the chaos and panic, a young Noctis drops his Carbuncle charm on his way to the shelters and when he turns back to reach for it, he’s pulled away by his mother who grips onto his arms in urgency. “Noctis, leave it! There’s no time! We must get-“ Aulea cuts herself off when she feels the ethereal blue light of the Crystal rest upon her._

_Her eyes change from blue to red as the Crystal focuses on her. Noctis looks up at his mother and tugs at her hand. “Mama? Mama, what’s going on?” He asks fearfully, his breath hitching in his throat. But there’s no reply. Without warning, Aulea’s body rises from the ground and begins to ascend towards the Crystal which hung high above the city. “MAMA!” Noctis cries out, reaching for her, but falls on his knees when he loses his hold on her hand._

_Regis breaks free from Cor’s protection and rushes out to his son, pulling him close to his chest. “Look away, Noct, close your eyes!” Regis looks up to the dark sky, only illuminated by the light of the Crystal, in horror and grief. How dare they? How dare they claim his wife to be the sacrifice for the Old Wall? Why couldn’t it have been him? He could have paid the price._

_Regis forces himself to look away and instead looks towards the floods Leviathan has summoned out beyond the walls of Insomnia, watching it ravage the surrounding towns and villages, smothering Ifrit’s flames; all innocent mortals playing pawn in the Gods’ war. He closes his eyes, still holding Noctis firmly in his arms, and prays. Regis prays to whatever Astral is listening to his pleas, not as a king, but as a father._

_It is Titan who answers._

_Regis feels his devastation rumble in the earth and when he opens his eyes, there is none there but Cor who pulls him up to his feet. “Come, your Majesty! We must get to the shelters!” Regis carries Noctis in his arms and runs with Cor tailing shortly behind him. It is when they reach the safety of the shelters that Regis turns back and witnesses the summoning of the Old Wall, an ancient barrier created by the Lucian kings of old to protect the city of Insomnia from such dangers._

_As Leviathan’s waters rush over the protective dome, Titan sinks the city beneath the earth, hiding it away from the rest of Eos for centuries to come._

\-----

Noctis remembers very little of that night.

Of the night that Ifrit betrayed the Six and set the world ablaze in his rage; of the night that Leviathan quenched his fires with her merciless waves and Titan sank the city into the earth; of the night he lost his mother. His tutors would give him a very historical description of that tragic night and his father would avoid the subject altogether.

“Oi, you paying attention, highness?” Nyx Ulric questions. He smacks Noctis’ behind with his wooden training kukris, causing the young prince to narrow his eyes at him as he rubs his butt.

“You’re a dick,” states Noctis, shoving the man away as he walks past and sits on a stone bench in the palace courtyard, letting his training blade drop to the floor with a clatter.

“Don’t let your father hear you saying that. What will His Majesty think?” Nyx tuts as he joins the prince on the bench, placing his kukris on the side. Nyx Ulric is one of the lucky few Galahdian refugees that reached the safety of the inner city on time before the destruction of Lucis. Others, like his sister and mother, were not as lucky and died at the mercy of the Astrals.

“That you’re a bad influence on me.”

“Oh yeah, 2000 thousand years worth of bad influence,” replies Nyx sarcastically, “that excuse stopped working a centuries ago.”

“Well who was it who said we should explore the gateway caverns?” Noct challenges.

“No, I said, Noctis we _shouldn’t_ explore those caverns. And then you said, ‘screw you, Nyx, I do what I want.’ And went and did it anyway so of course I had to follow you to make sure you didn’t cause more trouble.” Noctis almost flinches at that. The first time he explored the caverns was when he was eight years old. Alone and curious, he ventured further towards the depth of the caverns and came in contact with one of the protectors of the entrance to the city: the Marilith. Not knowing friend from foe and thinking he was an intruder, she attacked Noctis. She would have killed him had it not been for Regis arriving on time and sending the beast away. Noctis would forever carry those scars as a lesson.

He scoffs. “Well that didn’t work out; we ended up decapitating a statue.”

“By ‘we’ you mean ‘you.’” Nyx corrects.

Noctis considers it a moment, tapping his chin in thought before replying, “No, I meant ‘we.’”

Nyx rolls his eyes. “You can be a real royal pain in the ass sometimes, you know that, kid?” He says, though his words hold no true weight. In some ways, Noctis is the younger brother that Nyx never asked for but is grateful to have. “So what’s up? Your head’s somewhere else today.”

The prince offers no reply, but instead diverts his gaze towards the surrounding cavernous cliff faces across the narrow sea, the only passage in and out of Insomnia. Absentmindedly, Noctis fiddles with the crystal hanging around his neck. “I think I’m just tired,” he lies, “Cor put me on patrol duty last night.” He stops fiddling, letting the cool stone touch his chest. Nyx looks disbelieving but accepts his answer and Noctis is thankful for it. How could he explain what he was feeling?

The soft breeze in the citadel courtyard causes his striped, gradient black hakama to billow gently around his ankles. He removes his black haori, fully revealing the deep blue kimono garment beneath. Noctis stands up and in a magical blue flurry, appears his engine blade in his hands. “Come on then, ready to try and kick my ass?” He beckons him with his gloved hand in a ‘come at me’ manner.

Nyx raises an eyebrow at the blade before summoning his own kukris in his hands and twirling them. He, on the other hand, wears a fully black kimono and hakama: custom uniform of the Kingsglaive, the most elite of his soldiers. Nyx takes his haori off, folding it carefully and placing it on the bench. “Since you’re using real weapons…”

Noctis shrugs. “Go big or go home, right?”

Nyx makes the first move, leading with a forward jab which Noctis blocks. “We’re already home, Noct,” he points out. Whether it’s the words themselves or the tone in which they were delivered, something about that sentence causes Noctis’ intestines to knot themselves together.

There must be so much more beyond the borders of Insomnia but any such venture towards the surface is forbidden, most especially to the prince. Ever since the death of the Queen and the prince’s incident as a child, Regis holds a tighter grip on Noctis, not caring if his iron grip strangles his son.

\-----

In the Gralean Smithsonian, Ignis Scientia sits patiently outside the conference room, awaiting his proposal meeting with the Board of Directors. He drums his nimble fingers on his briefcase, mentally reviewing his presentation on Insomnia, the lost fallen city of Lucis. Today, Lucis is a thriving nation with Lestallum at its forefront, pioneering the way of alternative energy by using the meteorite that fell over two thousand years ago. Yet in the Cavanaugh region, remains a landless gap filled with ocean; a gap where, Ignis adamantly believes, the city of Insomnia had once been.

A young intern, no more than twenty, approaches Ignis tentatively. “S-Sir? Mr Scientia?”

Ignis stands up and brushes down his suit jacket. “Yes? Are they ready for me?” Eager, he begins to walk towards the double doors of the conference room when the intern pulls him back by the sleeve.

“Wait! I’ve been sent with a message for you.”

Ignis sighs and sets his briefcase down on the chair. He folds his arms across his chest and looks down at the young man. “And what’s your name?”

“Talcott. Talcott Hester.”

“Well _Talcott, Talcott Hester_ , please tell me quickly so I can attend to my meeting. I’ve been waiting for this for far too long.”

Talcott raises an eyebrow in confusion. “But you’ve been waiting here for about ten minutes…” He trails off.

Ignis resists the urge to slap his forehead in the young man’s simple naivety. Instead he sighs deeply and patiently, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth methodically. “I was referring to my years of in-depth research and study.”

“Oh. Oh! Of course, I’m sorry.” His cheeks flush into a bright red in embarrassment. He shifts awkwardly from one foot onto the other, adjusting his tie. “Mr Besithia and the other Board members moved your meeting up from four o’clock to three o’clock.” Ignis’ eyes are wide as he hastily pulls his left sleeve up to reveal his watch. It’s ten to four. He has missed his meeting. When Ignis looks back up to Talcott in alarm, the young intern’s face twists in discomfort. “A-And in light of your absence at the meeting, the Board has elected to reject your proposal.”

This is an injustice.

Ignis considers himself to be a well-tempered man. Very rarely does he allow snide comments and cruel criticism affect him which explains his devout attitude towards the unpopular area of study of the fabled city of Insomnia. But this is a direct insult and he will not stand for it. “I see,” he says in a dangerously calm voice. He takes a step towards Talcott who shrinks under his gaze. “If you would be so kind as to direct me toward Mr Besithia’s office, I will speak to the man personally.”

Talcott opens his mouth to decline but he sees the rage of fire in Ignis’ eyes and instead nods. “T-This way…” he trails off and leads Ignis through the Gralean Smithsonian and to Besithia’s office.

Talcott leaves Ignis at the door and the man takes a deep breath in before storming through the door. “How dare you, Verstael?! It is one thing to reject my proposal _once_ we’ve had the meeting, but to reject it _before_ even meeting with me is downright disrespectful!”

Verstael Besithia, the Chairman of the Board, sits behind his desk, looking nonplussed at Ignis’ sudden arrival. He puts his hands together on the desk and looks up at the man. “I won’t pretend to not know why you’re here.”

Ignis waves his briefcase at him before slamming it down against the mahogany desk, causing several photo frames to fall with a clatter and a pot of pens to collapse and scatter. “This has been my life’s work. I will not stand to see it cast aside like this! This is unprofessional!”

“There’s a chair behind you.” This only enrages Ignis further. He uses his briefcase to wipe the desk free of everything, letting it fall to the floor in a series of clashes and smashes. “Calm down, Scientia. Unprofessional is how you are acting at the moment. Unprofessional is wasting your life away on legends and myths! You’re lucky I haven’t called security yet.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Ignis snarls. His beastly tone of voice is completely foreign to his usual composed, uniform nature. He opens his briefcase and takes out the files, laying them out across the desk in front of Versatel. He taps at a photograph with his finger as he leans over the desk. “This book, the Oracle’s Tome, contains directions to the lost city of Insomnia!”

Versatel pushes the photograph away. “You showed this to us six months ago and we sent you on the cheapest expedition we have ever funded and you came back with nothing.  All that money, gone.”

“There was an error in the translation of its location. As you see here,” he gestures to another file, “the tome was not in the Cartanica Mines but in,” Ignis flips to another file, “Costlemark Tower. Now, I have studied multiple maps from previous expeditions to Costlemark and found that an unmarked room was left unexplored. I propose that-“

“We fund yet another fruitless expedition to Costlemark, the most dangerous place we’ve ever sent anyone to, in the hopes of finding this mythical book?” Ignis opens his mouth to agree but Verstael continues on. “And suppose we do find this tome of yours. You want us to find _another_ expedition to this lost city of Insomnia and for what? Broken pottery and ruins? No, Scientia. You have cost this institution more money that you could ever hope to pay back in your lifetime.”

For anyone else, this would have been the time to back down, to accept defeat. But Ignis Scientia sees occasions like this as challenges. He takes out a letter from the bottom of the briefcase and presents it to Verstael. “I sincerely hoped it wouldn’t come to this, _sir,_ but that is my letter of resignation. Refuse to fund my expedition and I’ll-“

“You’ll what?” Verstael sneers, standing up from his desk. He’s shorter than Ignis by a several inches but the imposing authority of standing behind a desk makes him seem taller, makes him seem bigger. “You’ll flush your career down the toilet? End up a madman like your uncle?” The mention of his uncle makes Ignis flinch slightly. His uncle had been his inspiration for finding Insomnia since he was a child. “You have such talent, Ignis. Such a potential for greatness and you throw it all away on childish fantasies.” He shakes his head in disappointment then tosses a coin in his briefcase. “There, use that to fund your trip back to Altissia.”

\----

By the time Ignis arrives in the safety of his apartment, he’s drenched from head to toe from the storm outside. Angrily, he tosses the no-good umbrella aside before he takes off his shoes, leaving them to dry by the door. He sighs and drags a hand down the side of his tired face. Oh Astrals help him.

Thunder and lightning argue outside whilst Ignis makes his way towards the kitchen, turning the light switch on as he passes. When the lights refuse to turn on, he backtracks and switches it on and off before sighing and pressing his forehead against the wall in frustration. Surely someone up there had it for him. Ignis figures it’s Ramuh, the only explanation for a storm in the middle of May. He turns to the window and the sudden rumble of thunder and flash of lightning reveal the presence of another in his apartment. He quickly moves to grab a dagger from a nearby chest of drawers and holds it in a defensive stance.

Lightning flashes again and Ignis now sees it’s a woman. With her silver hair tucked beneath a fur hat and wearing a black, off-shoulder dress with a thigh high slit and a fur coat which hanging at her arms, revealing her shoulder and collarbones, she’s a vision of seduction. “Ignis Stupeo Scientia?”

“Who’s asking?”

The woman chuckles as she approaches Ignis then circles around him, inspecting the man. Once she’s done, she sits in the armchair by the window, a seductive smirk pulling at her lush lips. “My name is Aranea Highwind and I’m here acting on behalf of my employer who has a most…” she considers the correct word, “intriguing proposition for you.”

Ignis lowers the dagger but keeps a hold on it in case the situation goes awry. “And who, may I ask, is your employer?”

Aranea only smiles mischievously in response.

\----

The airship lands in an underground space beneath a field. During the flight, Ignis couldn’t tell exactly who Aranea’s employer is. All he could see from the stamp on some of the equipment was the letter ‘I’ or the number one; it’s difficult to tell in the dim lighting.

As Ignis walks down the ramp, his gaze drifts up where the ceiling shuts, closing the gate from the underground to the overground. Then he looks around. Except for equipment and machinery for the airship, not much is there in the landing except for an elevator which he presumes leads up to the mansion he saw. “Fuel her up for me, won’t you, boys?” Aranea calls out as she stands next to Ignis.

“You got it, Lady A!” Her men, Biggs and Wedge, as Ignis recalls, replies back to her in unison. She beckons for Ignis to follow her towards the elevator, tossing her fur coat aside to the floor just as they step inside.

Once the elevator begins to move, Aranea begins to tidy Ignis’ clothing and hair, straightening his jacket, brushing his shoulders, and fixing his tieless collar. “I can fix myself, thank you very much,” scowls Ignis, shooing her hands away as he brushes down his jacket. Aranea rolls her eyes and he styles his hair back into its usual cockatoo fashion, even if it’s slightly flat due to the rain and lack of hair product.

“If you insist, gorgeous,” she drawls as Ignis cleans his glasses. “As for my employer, you will address him as ‘Mr Izunia’ or ‘Sir’, stand unless asked to be seated, and keep your sentences short and to the point, are we clear?”

“Crystal clear,” replies Ignis shortly. Aranea grins at him as the elevator doors open. She gives him a gentle shove out. “Was that necessary?”

“Oh relax, Ignis. He doesn’t bite… often.” She winks before the elevator doors close, leaving Ignis alone in a grand library. It’s truly a sight for sore eyes. Books fill every shelf from the floor all the way to the ceiling where ladders are required for retrieving books at the top. The ceiling itself is an aquarium, reminding him very much of Steyliff Grove in the Vesperpool.

 At the end of the library, a fireplace roars and he’s drawn to it, not only for its warmth but also for the portrait that hangs above the mantelpiece. Two men feature in the portrait, one he is unfamiliar with but the other he’s known almost his whole life. “Uncle?”

“Finest explorer I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.” Ignis almost jumps. _Almost._ He turns to find the source of the voice and finds a man dressed in a dark grey narrow pinstripe suit and a burnt orange cravat in place of a tie. His red-violet hair glows against the light of the fire as he approaches Ignis with a smile on his face and a hand extended towards him. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting, Ignis. My name is Ardyn Izunia.” His voice is smooth like Accordian silk.

Ignis is wary but to feed his curiosity, he asks, “Did you really know my uncle?”

“Sharp and straight to the point, just like your uncle,” Ardyn chuckles as he beckons for Ignis to follow him to the front of the fireplace. “To answer your question, yes, I did. I met Thaddeus back in the University of Altissia, the class of ’06 and we remained close friends until his untimely death. He even dragged me along on some of his ridiculous expeditions and spoke of you often.”

It seems too good to be true. Ignis’ uncle just so happens to be close friends with a gillionaire? No, it’s far too suspicious. “Strange that he never mentioned you.”

“Oh he wouldn’t. I’m a man of no consequence and he knew how much I liked my privacy.”

Huh. Well that answers that. “Mr Izunia-“

“Call me Ardyn,” he insists.

“Ardyn, should I be wondering why I’m here?” Ignis questions. He’s loath to trust someone who reaches out to him just months after his uncle passes on. One could say the years of working alone have left Ignis untrusting, especially when regarding his work. Ardyn gestures towards a package on a table at the side of the fireplace.

“See for yourself,” he says. Ignis crosses over towards the table and picks up the package.

On the brown packing paper, it reads, ‘For Ignis. With love, Thaddeus Scientia.’ He holds it gingerly in his hands. Ignis looks up and meets Ardyn’s amber eyes with confusion. “It’s from my uncle. But his will was read out to me and-“

“He gave me that package three years ago. Told me that if anything were to happen to him, I should give it to you when you were ready. And lo and behold, here I am, giving it to you.” Ignis pulls at the string and peels away the packing, revealing a dark-blue, leather bound book, fastened with a silver clasp at the side.

Ignis audibly gasps and for the first time in his life, he stutters, “I-It’s the Oracle’s Tome.” He removes his glasses, as if not believing his own eyes. He taps the book with his glasses as he turns to Ardyn with revelation in his smile. “Ardyn, this tome is the key to finding Lucis’ lost region of Cavanaugh, to finding the lost city of Insomnia!”

Ardyn narrows his eyes at him, then at the book, as if to determine the truth. Then he straightens his posture and waves the tome away with a scoff. “Insomnia? I’m sure you mean you’re suffering from insomnia, rather than the fairytale of the lost city.”

Ignis steps back in confusion and shakes his head as he unfastens the clasp and opens the book, flipping to a random page. “No, no, look, this book contains coordinates, clues, every missing piece of my research can be filled by this book.”

The older man eyes the book sceptically but waves it off again as he walks towards the aquarium wall. “Looks like nonsense to me, Ignis.”

“That is because it has been written in a dialect that no longer exists,” Ignis explains as he follows after Ardyn.

“So it’s rendered useless.”

Ignis lifts a finger. “Not useless, just difficult. Fortunately for us, I like a challenge. I’ve spent my life studying dead languages, everything from Ancient Tenebraen to Lucian Runes, so no, this is not nonsense to me.”

 Ardyn sits at a table, his hair looking more violet against the blue light of the aquarium wall. His elbows rest on the arms of the plush chair with his hands clasped together. “Alright, I’ll humour you. Say this tome is genuine and that you can translate it, what do you propose to do?”

“I’ll get funding from the Smithsonian. After the Board sees this book-“

“They’ll never believe you.”

“I will _make_ them believe.”

“Like you did today?” Ardyn challenges. Ignis stops himself. How on Eos did he know about that?

“Perhaps the Board at the Smithsonian won’t believe me. More than likely they’ve besmirched my name in any and every direction they go.” Ignis sighs and puts his glasses back on the bridge of his nose. He taps the book in his hand with his finger. “But mark my words, Mr Izunia, I will find Insomnia, even if I must rent a rowboat to do so.” Determination ripples through his words, and it’s this determination that causes a smile to fill Ardyn’s face.

“That’s precisely what I wanted to hear, Ignis. But you can dispose of the rowboat. I have something far better in mind.” With a press of a button on the table in front of him, he presents a model submarine with various vehicles and components before Ignis who blinks in surprise.

How? Why? “For years, your uncle never stopped talking about that book. I never believed him but made a bet with him instead. I told him that if he ever found that tome, I’ll finance the entire expedition and kiss him full on the mouth.” He laughs lightly as he picks up a photo frame and shows it to Ignis. “You can imagine my embarrassment when he found the damn thing.”

He pats Ignis on the back and leads him towards the fireplace again. “I know your uncle’s gone, Ignis, Gods rest his soul, but Ardyn Izunia is a man who keeps his word.” Ardyn sighs as he stares out into the fireplace, feeling grief over the loss of his dear friend. “Those daemons down at the Smithsonian turned him into a laughing stock – I imagine you understand what that feels like – and he died a broken man. I won’t stand for the world to remember him by that.” Then with a renewed vigor, he turns around and walks back to the table with Ignis following after him. “Come, we have work to do.”

“But Ardyn, in order to do what you’re proposing to do, we’ll need a crew. Engineers, geologists-“

“Already taken care of,” Ardyn interrupts as he pulls out a thick file from the drawer in the table. He slaps it down against the mahogany table and spreads the profiles out. Ignis adjusts his glasses as he reviews each one. “We have the best money can buy.”

Ardyn taps the photograph in the corner of the first profile. It’s a man, no more than a year or two older than Ignis, with long dark brown hair shaved at the sides and a scar running down from the left of his forehead down to his cheek. “Gladiolus Amicitia, Lucian, geology and excavation. Expert in survival and is handy with a sword if you give him one.” Then he moves onto the next profile. It’s a young man with blond hair styled up in spikes with violet-blue eyes and freckles. “Prompto Argentum, Niflheim, demolitions and firearms. We had to aid in his escape from the Ghorovas Rift Prison.” The next profile shows a young, perky-looking woman with short, curly hair and a baseball cap. “Cindy Aurum, Lucian, chief mechanic. Young, but her experience with machinery is unparalleled.”

Ardyn brings two profiles together showing siblings. One is a serious-looking man with silver-blond hair and the other a delicate-looking young woman with light blonde hair, tied in a plait updo. “Ravus and Lunafreya Nox Fleuret of Tenebrae. Brother and sister and head of communications and our chief medical officer.” He passes over Aranea’s profile, knowing that Ignis has already met the woman and moves to the final member of the principal team. “And Captain Titus Drautos from Lucis. He led this same crew that brought the journal back.”

“And where was it?” Ignis asks curiously. In response, Ardyn slaps down a photograph.

“Costlemark Tower.”

The smile that comes to Ignis’ face is impossible to stop. “I knew it!”

“All this crew needs now is a linguistics expert from Accordo. So what do you say?” As much as Ignis wants to agree wholeheartedly, there are certain measures he must take before he just up and leaves for an expedition.

“I’ll need to quit my job, give notice for my apartment, and pack clothes and books-“

“You quit this afternoon, your apartment’s been taken care of, clothes are packed and books are in storage, so I’ll ask again: what do you say?” Ardyn asks, a hand extended towards Ignis.

Shaking the gillionaire’s hand, Ignis says with a proud smile, “Insomnia awaits us.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis meets the rest of the gang; Luna has a huge bone saw, Gladio makes a wonderful first impression, and happy underwater exploration... not.

Through the window, Ignis can see clouds breezing past as the airship flies over the sea, entering Accordian territory. He tightens his fingers around the handle of his leather duffle bag – a gift from his Uncle Thaddeus when he had graduated from the University of Altissia, his uncle’s alma mater – and looks around. There aren’t many people onboard as Aranea is freighting cargo to the landing strip off the coast from Altissia and the few people Ignis does see either ignore him or are too busy with their work.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Ignis looks around to find the source of the drawling Leiden accent. A young woman with short, curly, blonde hair pats the wall of the airship before taking the seat next to him, strapping on the seatbelts. She’s very familiar and Ignis racks his brain trying to remember exactly who she is. Sidney? Sandy? She extends a gloved hand to him. “Cindy Aurum, chief engineer.” Ah, that’s who she is. It seems as if she is also trying to remember who he is as she snaps her fingers. “And you must be the linguist, right?”

He shakes her hand. “That I am. Ignis Scientia, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She grins at him and Ignis feels at ease. At least there’s one member of the main crew who seems nice. “That makes two of us then. Well, Ignis, you better brace yourself, with that wind outside, it’s gonna be a rough landin’.”

As Ignis opens his mouth to question how she knew they were about to land, Aranea’s voice filters through the speakers. “Attention all personnel, we’re beginning our descent onto the landing strip so you’d better find something to hold on to if you’re not strapped in your seat.” Her announcement comes a little too late as halfway through her sentence, Ignis has to grip onto his seatbelt as he felt the airship make a sharp descent.

Once he feels the airship land on the strip, Ignis releases his tight hold on his belt and lets out a sigh of relief. He’s never liked flying anyway. Beside him, Cindy giggles lightly as she unclips her seatbelt. “Told ya to brace yourself, Igs.” The ramp of the airship lowers onto the landing platform and Cindy stands up, throwing her duffle bag over her shoulder. She gives Ignis a two-fingered salute. “Alright, I’ll see ya down there. I gotta run and make a final check with the engines of the sub before we leave.” Then she’s gone.

As Ignis unclips his seatbelt, there’s a tap on his shoulder. He looks up to see Aranea standing beside him looking bored. Unlike his first encounter of her, she wears more practical clothes for an expedition: a black vest shirt covered with a dark red leather jacket, paired with black military trousers and combat boots. “Come on, rookie, Mr Izunia asked me to personally escort you to the submarine so grab your stuff and keep up so you don’t get lost.”

“I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of navigating myself,” he tells her as he stands up, leather duffle bag firmly in hand.

Aranea chuckles as she folds her arms over her chest. “Oh I’m sure you are, Mr Cartographer,” she says, a hand on his forearm, “but they’re direct orders from Mr Izunia himself and I don’t know about you, I get paid to follow orders.” She moves her hand to his face, lightly slapping his cheek. Then Aranea beckons Ignis to follow her as she begins to walk down the ramp. “Hey boys! Get this stuff onboard the sub, _now._ ” She gestures to the cargo on her airship with her thumb.

“You got it, Lady A! We’ll see you on the bridge!” Biggs and Wedge call out.

The landing strip reminds Ignis very much of a military base. Perhaps in the past it _had_ been a military base. Overhead, a few other airships begin to land and there are multiple personnel transporting cargo and supplies to the lower levels of the landing to the submarine. With his long legs, Ignis easily keeps up with Aranea, though they barely speak as several people constantly approach her for orders. _Commodore_ Highwind, they call her. It’s not until they’re in an elevator that they have a moment alone.

“If I may ask—“ Ignis begins.

Aranea cuts in quickly, “You may not.”

Still, Ignis persists. “How does one become a commodore before the age of thirty? It’s an impressive accomplishment for an ex-mercenary.” He had done his reading. Ignis is not about to delve into an expedition for who knows how long without knowing whom he is to be working with.

The silver-haired woman sighs and turns to face him with a hand on her hip. “I don’t do backstories, four-eyes.”

Whether it’s because she referenced his glasses or out of habit, Ignis pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “I intended no offence; I only meant to offer my praise.”

Aranea stays silent, unsure of how to respond to his words. Her eyes glance over to floor level above the elevator doors; they are currently on level two, and though there are only four levels, and the departure floor is deep below the surface of the sea.

“Sorry, I just don’t like people bringing up my past when I’m trying to leave there, you know.” She relaxes. “But you’re right, I was a mercenary and it wasn’t until three years ago that I was given a second chance by a generous benefactor who had a lot of pull in high places.”

“Ardyn Izunia,” Ignis realises.

Aranea snaps her fingers. “You got it. So I get this chance and all I had to do was co-lead an expedition in Costlemark Tower since me and my boys are the only ones who’ve been there and survived.”

Three years ago? Costlemark Tower? “You mean to say—“

“Yeah. I led your uncle’s expedition for the Oracle’s Tome,” Aranea says. “After all was said and done, the Niflheim military strapped a title to my name and a promise of a good future for me and my boys; a promise they continuously fulfil provided I do my part.” Ignis remains silent as he listens to Aranea. There’s a ghost of a smile on her face. “Your uncle was a good man, Ignis. I’m sorry for your loss.”

Ignis smiles at the sentiment. “Thank you, Aranea. For the sentiment and for sharing.”

“Repeat any of what I said to you to anyone else, and you’ll find yourself at the bottom of the ocean.”

But his smile remains. “Of course.”

The elevator doors open to the departure floor, revealing the grand submersible which is to take them to Insomnia. Aranea beckons for Ignis to follow her through the busy floor, past multiple crates of cargo and supplies and through crowds of people. “Attention, all hands to the launch bay. Final loading in progress,” announces the radio operative. It’s a male voice and Ignis only assumes it’s Ravus Fleuret.

Too busy taking in the grandeur of the entire scene before him, Ignis loses sight of Aranea and almost walks into someone. “Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” The voice is youthful and _bouncy._ Can voices even be bouncy? He turns and sees a young man with blond hair, arms outstretched around his two trolleys as if to stop anything from falling from the mountain of demolition equipment he has. Then he turns around and jabs his finger into Ignis’ shoulder. “Watch the explosives, dude!”

Ignis blinks in surprise. “I— my apologies, I should have been more observant.”

“Hell yeah you should’ve been!”

Ignis looks past the man to get a closer look at his mountain of explosives. “So, what precisely do you have in there?” He asks.

“Oh I got everything from classic dynamites, military-grade grenades, chemical flasks, some cherry bombs, flares, fuses, wicks, uhh, glue,” he pauses to open his satchel bag and shoves his hand in before pulling out several non-demolition related items, “my camera, tonnes of pre-charged batteries and memory cards.” Then he drops the smaller items back into his bag and he smiles brightly at Ignis as he grabs his hand and shakes it excitedly. “Prompto Argentum, demolitions and firearms expert.”

“Firearms? Are we going to war?” Ignis questions.

Prompto chuckles as he takes out a gun from his shoulder holster and twirls it in his hand with a grin. “Can’t be too careful down there; who knows what we’ll run into, y’know?” He shoves the gun back in his holster. “Three years ago, in Costlemark, just before we found the Tome, we had to fight this Jabberwocky and a couple of Red Giants, and like, those things are supposed to be _myths_ , right? So I figure, if this Insomnia is the real deal, then there’ll be more than that.”

Ignis is surprised and does nothing to hide it. “You were part of the Costlemark Expedition? But if that was three years ago, you must’ve been—“

“Twenty-two, I know; youngest person on _that_ expedition and the youngest person on _this_ expedition too.”

A hand slaps down on Prompto’s shoulder, causing him to jump and yelp. Aranea snorts in laughter. “Jeez kid, if you’re that jumpy, should you really be handling explosives?”

“If you can find someone else who can escape from Ghorovas, then feel free to replace me, Aranea,” Prompto replies before quickly adding, “but please don’t, I don’t have anywhere else.”

“We actually helped you in your escape,” Aranea points out.

“You were the get-away car, well, get-away airship in that case, but _I_ did the dirty work.”

She ruffles his hair, much to his chagrin as he quickly attempts to fix it. “Anyways, thanks for keeping Ignis company _even though_ he should have been following me.” Aranea cocks her head towards Ignis who merely shrugs in response.

Prompto’s jaw drops open in surprise. “Oh _you’re_ Thaddeus’ nephew! Oh he told us loads of stories about you—“

“All of which can be shared later,” she cuts in. Aranea pats a crate of dynamite in Prompto’s trolley, making him wince. “Get this stuff onboard now and then report to the bridge.” He didn’t need telling twice. He waves to Ignis and then continues pushing his two large trolleys up the ramp and into the submarine. Aranea grabs Ignis’ forearm, this time determined not to lose sight of him, and leads him to two men at the foot of the ramp. “Sorry for the delay, sir. Someone was busy taking in the sights.”

“Not to worry, commodore, I’ll take it from here. Report to the bridge.” The man who speaks no needs introductions for Ignis knows exactly who he is: Captain Titus Drautos; a war hero, a man with a reputation for holding the men under his command to unforgiving high standards. His respect is only earned with blood, sweat, and tears. Aranea nods before breezing up the ramp of the submersible.

“Ignis, let me introduce to you the leader of our expedition and captain of the UE Regalia, Captain Drautos,” Ardyn gestures to Drautos who grips Ignis’ hand in a firm handshake. “He led the Costlemark team which brought the Tome back.” As his eyes meet the captain’s, there’s something untrustworthy about him and the word which keeps coming back to him is: snake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the nephew of the great Thaddeus Scientia.”

“The pleasure is mine, Captain.” He turns to Ardyn. “When you settle a bet, you truly withhold nothing.”

Ardyn chuckles as he looks upon the grand submersible. “Your uncle has always said that one can never put a price on the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Certainly, for this is immeasurable compared to the value of what we will discover and learn on this expedition,” Ignis says, beholding the UE Regalia.

“Yes, this should be enriching for all of us,” comments Drautos.

“Attention all personnel, launch will commence in fifteen minutes,” Ravus announces over the speakers.

Drautos nods at Ignis and gestures up the ramp. “I believe that’s our cue, Mr Scientia. Farewell, Mr Izunia, fear not, I will take care of Ignis.”

The man in question almost scoffs. He’s no child and no stranger to danger. Instead, he waves to Ardyn who stands at the bottom of the ramp, waving to him. “Goodbye, Ardyn!”

“Until the next time, Ignis!”

\-----

As Ignis enters his shared quarters, Ravus’ voice comes on the speakers again. “Attention, tonight’s supper will be Veggie Medley Stew with a musical program to follow, according to Lieutenant Loqi. Perhaps he’ll play the ukulele.” He sets his bag on the foot of his bottom bunk and takes out the Oracle’s Tome.

His fingers caress the old leather gently and Ignis is unable to help the soft smile that comes to his lips. It’s really happening. Every belittling comment, every harsh criticism, every dismissal of his studies has led to this moment. Ignis only wishes his uncle were there to experience it with him.

“Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met yet, though admittedly, you do look very familiar.”

Now pulled out of his thoughts, Ignis turns around and faces a young woman with blond hair tied in a loose side plait. She wears a white, generic t-shirt with a short white, trench coat, paired with black, slim-fitting trousers and flat-soled boots. She walks further into the room with a kind of light grace and removes her oversized scarf, hanging it over the foot of the bunk bed above Ignis’.

“I don’t believe so.”

She reaches out and shakes his hand. “Lunafreya Fleuret, Chief Medical Officer.”

“Ignis Scientia.”

“Ignis Scientia? You don’t mean to say you’re dear Thaddeus’ nephew?” She sets her medical bag on the small table at the end of the room and opens it up, taking out a large bone saw. Ignis’ eyes widen at the sight. Why in Eos would she ever have use for that on this expedition?

“Indeed I am. Miss Fleuret, if you don’t mind me asking, exactly what is that saw for?” There is evident concern in his voice and Luna chuckles as she sets the saw down on the table.

“According to the catalogue my brother purchased this from, it claims to be able to saw through a femur in twenty eight seconds, though,” she winks, “I believe I can bring that down by half.” Ignis, though not wanting to underestimate the strength and skillset of the medical officer, finds it difficult to believe that someone as saintly-looking as Lunafreya can saw through a femur bone in fourteen seconds.

“Following from the previous announcement, the musical program is cancelled due to Lieutenant Loqi’s misplacement of his ukulele—oh he hasn’t misplaced it?” There’s a brief static over the speakers, as if the operative is covering the microphone. “Ah right, well whoever thought it was amusing to pilfer the Lieutenant’s ukulele, please return it, I fear he is rather beside himself and it has only been an hour since our departure.”

Lunafreya chuckles and points to the speaker above them. “That’s my dear older brother, Ravus Fleuret, our chief radio operative and head of communications. Fortunately, you won’t be meeting him until later.”

“Fortunately?”

“Well, my brother lacks certain social graces and thus people don’t often leave with a good impression of him,” Lunafreya explains as she hangs the stethoscope around her neck and continues to unpack the rest of her equipment.  “Or, to put it rather bluntly, he doesn’t like many people.”

Heavy footsteps create a metallic clang against the floor and Ignis turns around and finds a half-naked man with a towel hung around his neck. The top half of his long dark brown hair is pulled up into a short ponytail which is still damp from the shower Ignis assumes he’s taken. A body tattoo in the design of an eagle decorates the man’s tan body canvas and it glistens from the moisture. “Hey Luna,” he greets. She half lifts her hand and waggles her fingers in response before focusing back on her work. “Who’s the guy bunking with us?”

“Certainly asking the man in question would prove more effective than asking me,” she points out, not bothering to look up at the muscled man.

He snorts as he removes the towel from around his neck and tosses it on the bottom bunk of the other bed. “Point taken, _Lady Luna_.”

“Please refrain from calling me that.”

“I’m just teasing ya, Lu, it’s not my fault that you Tenebraens sound all fancy and posh.” He pulls on a black tank shirt on and turns to Ignis with folded arms. “And you? Where’re you from?”

“Altissia.”

“Ohh, like the linguist Izunia took on the last minute? What’s his name again?” He snaps his fingers as if it will trigger remembrance. “Oh! It’s like the rock, isn’t it? Igneous Science or something…” As he considers it, he rubs the light beard on his chin. “What kinda parent names their kid Igneous?”

Ignis finds the conversation and the man’s train of thought more amusing than offensive. He’s aware and has been made aware of the uniqueness of his name throughout his life. Ignis Scientia, fire and knowledge, two words which encapsulate him rather perfectly as fate would have it.

He smiles and extends his hand towards the taller man. “Ignis Scientia: historian, cartographer, and linguist, at your service.”

Now realising his mistake, the man’s eyes widen as he gingerly accepts Ignis’ handshake. He can feel the embarrassment crawling up his skin and sinking into his bones. “G-Gladiolus Amicitia, excavation and survival expert, at yours; c-call me Gladio. Listen man, I didn’t mean—“

“Can Ignis Scientia and the rest of the Alpha Crew report to the bridge? That wasn’t a request; report to the bridge now,” Ravus announces over the speakers.

Ignis smiles again at Gladio before taking his satchel bag and putting the strap around his shoulder. “I’ll meet you up there. Pleasure meeting you, Gladio, and you too, Luna.” Then he steps through the door and leaves.

Gladio stares at the open door and Luna places a gentle hand on his shoulder, softly laughing to herself. “You’ve made a wonderful first impression of yourself, Gladiolus,” she teases.

“Oh shut it, Lu,” Gladio grumbles before the two of them follow after Ignis.

\-----

“Can everyone hear me?”

“We can all hear you, four-eyes, we’re all waiting for you to say something worth listening to,” Aranea says in a bored tone, resting her weight on her dragoon lance.

“Commodore…” Drautos trails off in a warning tone.

Aranea waves her hand dismissively at him. “I know, sir, play nice.”

“Believe me, my readings are invaluable.” Ignis taps a key on the keyboard and on the screen appears a scanned page from the Oracle’s Tome. “As you can see, this page is a depiction of a creature which is rumoured to be so horrifying that sailors and explorers were said to be driven mad by the mere sight of it.”

Prompto raises his hand as if he were in high school. “What kind of creature are we talking about? I don’t do well with bugs or insects.”

Gladio slings his arm around Prompto’s shoulders and pulls him close and in turn, Prompto wraps his arm around Gladio’s waist. Ignis raises an eyebrow in suspicion. Of course, he’s aware that the two have worked together in the past but is unaware of the closeness of the two. Are they intimate?

“Prom, there’re no bugs in the bottom of the ocean,” he points out.

“That’s a lie, I saw this documentary on NifGeo Wild and there’s these water spiders—“

Drautos clears his throat, bringing a halt to the tangent conversation between the two. “I believe that’s a conversation for another time?” It isn’t a question. Gladio and Prompto nod apologetically. “Right, continue on, Mr Scientia.”

Ignis taps the screen with his knuckle. “This is an illustration of the Marilith, the creature guarding the entrance to Insomnia. Supposedly half-serpentine and half-humanoid, it’s been told to be able to thrive in water and on land.”

“So it’s basically a giant sea serpent?” Cindy questions. “I was scavenging for parts in Vesperpool a couple years back and there’s all kinds of water snakes that they shoulda renamed the place Viperpool.”

“A mythical giant sea serpent, yes. In the Cosmogony, it’s found within the Astral Leviathan’s constellation,” Ignis continues to explain. “At the time of the Great War of Old, when Ifrit betrayed the Six, he ravaged Old Solheim in fire and flame that only Leviathan’s waters could drown it. It can only be assumed that Leviathan placed the Marilith as Insomnia’s guard.”

“That’s a lovely bedtime story but how’s that going to help us find the entrance?” Aranea questions.

“According to the Tome, we’ll come to a crevice at the bottom of the ocean which will lead us directly into an air pocket,” Ignis explains as he draws a diagram on another panel, “from there, we will find the remnants of an ancient highway that will lead us to Insomnia. Think of it as the grease trap in your sink, if you will.”

Aranea snorts lightly. “Historian, cartographer, linguist, plumber. Hard to believe he’s still single,” she says to Drautos. Then she looks to Ignis again. “Is there anything else you can do?”

Ignis shrugs. “I can cook if the occasion calls for it.”

“And he cooks too. Quality husband material if I ever saw it.”

“Captain, Commodore, you’d better come and see this,” the helmsman, Biggs, says. He turns on the exterior lights, revealing dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of ship wreckages. The atmosphere turns into a chilling tension and murmurs spread throughout the crew. Prompto instinctively pulls himself closer to Gladio and Lunafreya breathes a quiet prayer when she beholds the sight beyond her.

“There are ships here from every era,” Ignis observes reservedly as he adjusts his glasses. He takes out the Oracle’s Tome from his satchel and opens to the desired page before reading through it.

“Captain, Commodore,” Ravus speaks up, “there’s a sound on the hydrophone you would be most intrigued in hearing.” Ignis looks up and it’s the first time he sees Ravus. Walking onto the helm, he didn’t notice the radio station on a lower level of the bridge where a young man, slightly older than himself, with silver-blond hair sits.

“Put it on the speakers, Ravus,” says Drautos. The man flicks a switch and a stomach-churning, metallic groaning rumbles through the speakers. Drautos and Aranea descend to the radio station to get a better look at the frequencies of the sound. “Is it a pod of whales?”

Ravus shakes his head, which in turn, shake his silver-blond hair. “No. This is far larger than whales.”

Aranea adjusts a switch on the dashboard. “It sounds metallic, perhaps it’s us echoing off the rock surfaces.”

“If you prefer to do my job, Highwind, be my guest,” Ravus says bitterly. “Whatever it is, it’s getting louder which means it’s getting closer.”

There’s a momentary silence. And then, a _CRASH_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was very much a development/bridge chapter so you can see the interactions and relationships between the characters before the action in the next chapter begins. And don't worry, Noctis, Nyx and the rest of the Insomnian gang will have a chunk in the next chapter given their absence in this one. Also yes, Lunafreya teasing Gladio is everything to me and natural affection between Prompto and Gladio warms the cockles of my heart.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on tumblr [here](http://ton-berry.tumblr.com) and yes, shameless self-promo, just (please don't) fight me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evacuation from the UE Regalia is underway. Noctis and his friends prepare for a Scouting Expedition. Ignis learns a little more about his companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sO sorry about the wait. I just had such a writer's block on this story and finally, after all these months, the block is gone.

Everything happens all at once and all too fast within the space of a second. The collision causes the submarine to turn a full ninety degrees. Many of the bridge crew fall from their seats, stacking up against the starboard side creating piles of people. Cindy clings on to railing, hooking her arms and legs around the metal barrier while Gladio manages to grab hold of both Prompto and Lunafreya before they could fall off the helm. Ignis isn’t as lucky. He falls, and would have joined the collection of people at the bottom had it not been for his outstretched hands grabbing hold of the closest railing.

“BIGGS TURN THIS SUB THE RIGHT WAY AROUND NOW.” Ignis could hardly hear Drautos’ voice over the blaring klaxons and the high-pitched ringing in his ears but there’s no mistaking the commanding tone.

“I’M TRYING, CAPTAIN. BUT THERE’S A HULL BREACH IN THE MOTOR ROOM.”

“IFRIT’S FLAMING ASS,” curses Cindy loudly. Ignis is sure she says more but she disappears through the metal door before he can hear anything else. His grip on the railing is weakening and he isn’t sure how much longer he can hold on until Biggs realigns the submarine. With a painful yell, one hand loses its grip and the other is quick to follow its lead.

He falls. Closing his eyes, Ignis braces himself for impact but it never comes. Instead, he feels two hands gripping around his wrist and pulling him up. Well. Heaving is the best word for it. His eyes open and he looks up to see Ravus Fleuret attempting to haul him over the railing. “Come on, help me help you!” He yells. Ignis swings his other arm up, grabbing hold of Ravus’ upper arm before putting his arms around his neck, allowing the man to pull him over to the other side. They pant heavily, holding on to the railing in front of them, watching as crew members desperately try and navigate their way back to their seats without falling back into the pile.

“It’s coming back!” Wedge, one of Aranea’s men, shouts, pointing at the blurred figure. It’s only when it’s mere inches from the glass that Ignis sees what it truly is. It’s unmistakeable. With its serpentine lower body and the upper humanoid half, it’s nothing other than the Marilith, gatekeeper and protector of the entrance to Insomnia. They are close.

“Captain! It’s the Marilith creature that I was referring to!” Ignis shouts over to Drautos. Biggs manages to realign the submarine and the crew stumble back towards their stations, readying themselves for defensive manoeuvres.

“I thought you said it was mythical!” Prompto yells.

“Hate to burst your bubble, but it looks very real, Mr Argentum.” Drautos replies dryly. His response is calm but commanding, a tone only achieved by years of experience in the field. “Ravus! Get our men out in fighter pods and bring that daemon down!”

“Aye, captain!” Ravus jumps back into his seat, his communications equipment still intact and slaps on his headphones over his head. “Attention, all hands to battle stations and fighter pods.”

Ignis looks over to the helm in time to see Gladio dragging Prompto out of the bridge, assuming that the two have gone to man a fighter pod. Then the Marilith collides with the submarine once again, forcing it against the rocks. The submarine whines under the metallic strain and beneath his feet, Ignis can feel the metal body shudder. “Ignis! You know about this creature, what are its weaknesses?” Aranea barks at Ignis.

Trying to maintain a level head, Ignis flips through the pages of the Oracle’s Tome, hoping for any shred of information that could potentially save their lives. But nothing. He shakes his head in disbelief. “There’s nothing! It says that it was bred to be invincible, to be indestructible!”

Drautos doesn’t accept that for an answer. “Nothing is invincible. Highwind, target individual arms and fire torpedos!”

“Captain, maybe we should listen to Ignis. If this creature is invinc—“

“COMMODORE, NOW.”

Aranea scowls but orders the attack. Torpedos speed through the water and hit each individual shoulder, and then the fighter pods surround the creature and attack. “Captain! I have Argentum and Amicitia on the line and they say that none of their torpedos are doing any effective damage on the creature!” Ravus exclaims, flipping through switches to communicate to each department.

“I can see that, Ravus!” Drautos growls, gritting his teeth. “We just need it distracted while we can make an escape!”

“Captain!” Ravus calls out again.

“What is it now?!”

“It’s Aurum down in engineering! She says we’re taking on a lot of water from the hit we took and if it reaches the boilers, it’d be the end!”

“How much time do we have?”

“Twenty minutes if the bulkhead holds—wait—make that five!” Ravus yells up to the helm. There’s a hard look in Drautos’ eyes, reluctant to retreat from a fight but his mind is set.

“Sound the alarm!”

Ravus doesn’t miss a beat as he switches on the emergency alarm. “All hands to evacuation pods! I repeat, all hands to evacuation pods!” Then Ravus throws his headphones off and runs up to the helm, grabbing his sister’s wrist and pulling her towards the escape pods. Ignis follows shortly after them, with Drautos and Aranea close on his heel.

“Move it, people! Sometime today would be nice!” Aranea barks at them. They descend down to the lower levels of the submarine where the escape pods are, joining up with Cindy along with several crew members from engineering, before jumping inside. “Sit down and buckle up!” Aranea shoves people to the side as she powers through to the helm of the subpod.

“Commodore, get us out of here!” Drautos demands as he takes the captain’s seat.

“I’m trying!” Aranea growls, struggling with the lever. Then she kicks the lever, jettisoning them out into the water. The subpod descends deeper into the depths, using the rocks and wrecked ships for cover. “You’re my eyes, Ignis, what am I looking for?” She asks, flicking several switches before thrusting forwards.

“A crevice in the sea bed, it should lead us to the air pocket I mentioned earlier!”

Drautos scans the sea bed with his eyes, struggling with limited visibility and light, but then points down at the sea bed, past the rocky structures. “Over there, up ahead!”

Without a second’s hesitation, Aranea jerks the pod forwards. As she does so, she pulls down a radio communicator with one hand, bringing it close to her lips as she issues coordinates for any surviving fighter and escape pods. “All craft, make your mark thirty degrees down angle.”

“Got it, thirty degrees down angle,” Gladio responds over the comms.

“We’re right behind you, girl!” Prompto adds in, though with a slight panicked tone to his voice. The remaining pods dive into the crevice and soon find that the entrance is narrower than anticipated. Many of the small fighter pods crash against the narrowing cave walls, resulting in explosions and Aranea struggles to navigate through the limited space.

“ _It’s a grease trap, it’s just like a sink; it’s a grease trap, it’s just like a sink,_ ” Ignis repeats in his head like a mantra to keep him calm. Beside him, Cindy clutches his arm as the pod collides and grinds against the walls.

“Keep it together, Commodore,” Drautos reminds levelly, his teeth clenched together as Aranea dives down then pulls up, where the surface of water can be seen.

Ignis breathes a sigh of relief.

When they break through the surface of the water, Ignis is one of the first to climb out of the pod, standing on top of it with a flashlight to look for any other surviving pods. In the minutes that followed, five out of the fifteen fighter pods that were deployed, breached the surface of the water. Then Ignis turns the light towards the stone structures on the shore of the cave. With the ancient Lucian architecture and design of the entrance, there’s no doubt that it’s the path to Insomnia.

Once those alive make it to the shore and unload the vehicles and equipment from the primary escape pod, the expedition team gather together at the water’s edge. Lunafreya lights a candle and places it in a helmet before setting it adrift into the water. She utters a reverent prayer for the fallen before pulling herself to her feet.

“Seven hours ago, we began this expedition with two hundred of the finest men and women I’ve ever known,” says Captain Drautos, a payment of respect for those lost to them. “There’s no point sugarcoating it, we’re all that’s left. The journey ahead of us is dangerous and we’re fighting for our lives but we’re no strangers to danger. We’ve always come through and we will continue to do so. From here on out, everyone will pull double their weight. Everyone drives, everyone works.” Then Drautos looks to Ignis. “Looks like our chances of survival rest with you, Mr Scientia. You, and that book of yours.”  Ignis glances down at the leather book in his hands. It feels heavier with the responsibility of everyone’s lives burdening upon it.

“We’re all going to die,” Ravus says bluntly, earning him a smack on the arm from Lunafreya.

“Alright, let’s move out. Commodore, I want this convoy moving in the next ten minutes,” Drautos orders.

“Aye, Captain. Ignis, walk with me, I gotta figure out where to put you.” Aranea beckons him over but doesn’t wait as she’s already walking away to check on the drivers of each vehicle. Ignis quickens his pace to match Aranea’s stride. “Big boy, you’re taking point with the drill,” she says to Gladio, slapping him on his back then turns to Prompto who’s making a beeline for the oiler truck. “No, Prompto, Cindy’s taking the oiler, you know the rules, I want you fifty yards behind that truck at all times.”

“That was one time, Aranea! It’s not like I’m the one that set the explosion! Ravus was the one who needed a light for his cigarette!” Prompto says with a whine.

“Your equipment, your responsibility. You’re driving the firearms and weapons truck with Loqi, so move it. And Ravus, put out that cigarette, you’re driving the medic truck with Luna.” Then she puts her hands on her hips and turns her attention to Ignis. “So what can you drive, Igs? What’re you licensed for?”

“I can drive a car and a truck, if the occasion calls for it.”

“Believe me, it calls for it.” Aranea shoves a key onto his hand before grabbing his arm and leading him to one of the supply trucks near the front of the convoy line. “This truck’s your responsibility now.”

“And what exactly is in the truck?” Ignis questions.

“That’s above your clearance.”

Ignis scoffs lightly. “You want me to drive a truck which I am now supposedly responsible for, and yet you won’t tell me what’s inside? I could easily take a look.” Ignis makes his way towards the back of the truck to open it, only finds that it’s locked.

“Like I said, it’s above your clearance,” says Aranea, putting herself between the back of the truck and Ignis. “All you need to know is that it’s extremely important that you don’t wreck this truck, understand?”

“If it’s that important, perhaps you should be the one driving it,” Ignis fires back, earning him a sharp glare from Aranea. She steps towards him, jabbing her finger into his chest, pushing him back slightly. She’s much shorter than Ignis is, but that does little to affect her intimidating posture.

“Listen here, pretty boy,” she says, jabbing his chest once more, “I’m the Commodore of this expedition and that means that the only person I answer to, is Captain Drautos. Everyone else answers to me, got it?” Ignis stares down at Aranea hard. This is not a battle he wants to fight. Instead, he nods stiffly. Aranea steps back, chin slightly raised with her arms folded over her chest. “Good. Now get your ass in that truck, we’re leaving in five.” Then turning on her heels, she leaves Ignis alone.

Ignis sighs. He glances at the key in his palm then looks to the truck. What is in that truck? He may not have known her long, but Ignis can tell that Aranea is not the type of person who is quick to anger, so her outburst is uncharacteristic of her. There must be something suspicious at work. When he sits behind the wheel of the truck, he grips the leather wheel and presses his forehead against the top of it, sighing deeply. No, he cannot afford to think little of his comrades. Ignis must focus on leading the expedition to Insomnia.

\-----

Resting his elbows against the sheltered balcony balustrades, Noctis looks down at the city square below the Kingsglaive Pagoda. He could see his civilians going about their day-to-day errands to the markets with little care to the outside world. He could see some members of the Crownsguard slacking on their duties, getting drunk before noon when they were supposed to be acting as sentries. Noctis makes a mental note to mention it to Cor later. He could see children playing ball in the square, their innocent, naïve laughter ringing through the square. His people are content, but they’re not living.

Behind him, leaning against the screen door with her arms folded, is Iris Amicitia, sworn Shield to Noctis. And though she’s five years his junior, she’s far taller than him, standing at six feet. This wasn’t always the case. She’s a tall woman with strong, thick thighs and equally strong, thick arms to wield a greatsword that’s five times Noctis’ weight. She stares out after the prince with a wistful gaze. There had been a time where Iris might have sought for the prince’s affections but that time had long passed.

“The Scouting Squad is ready to leave, Noct,” says Iris, greeting him with a light punch to his arm as she approaches. “Well, we would be if Libertus and Pelna could stop arguing over who gets the Yokai mask this time,” she says with a snort. Then when Noctis doesn’t respond, she waves a hand in front of his face. “Heeey, Noct? Is there anybody in that big head of yours?”

He pushes her hand away to the side. “My head’s not big. If anyone’s got a big head around here, it’s Libertus.”

“Oi I heard that, Highness!” Libertus calls out from the room. “Pelna, you slimy bastard…” Noctis smiles a little when he hears the petty argument between the two Glaives resume from behind him.

“Hey Nyx, get over here. Something’s on princey’s mind.” Iris beckons the senior Glaive over to the balcony.

“That’s a nice change, means he’s actually thinking for once,” Nyx says with the faintest signs of a smirk on his face.

Noctis elbows him in his ribs. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“And you’re a _royal_ pain in the ass,” Nyx shoots back, earning him a sarcastic eye roll from the prince. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m bored. The people are bored,” Noctis says, gesturing vaguely with his arm. “The Crownsguard used to be a respected regiment and now they get drunk in broad daylight, wasting taxpayers’ money. And the Kingsglaive are close to being disbanded for their lack of necessity.” He shakes his head with a scowl on his lips. “It’s not right. This boredom doesn’t feel right.”

Nyx exhales lightly, leaning his back against the railing, crossing his feet at his ankles. “Y’know, boredom’s not so bad. Means there’s peace, at least. Back in the day, I’d fight hundreds of wars for Galahdians to know the boredom that Lucians have now.” Noctis winces at the mention of the fall of Galahd, knowing that despite the two millenniums that have passed, it still left a sore scar on Nyx’s heart.

“You know I didn’t mean like that, Nyx,” says Noctis quietly. He shakes his head again and looks back at the market square beneath them. “Look at them. They’re alive but they’re dying. This isn’t living.”

“HA!” Libertus cries out, causing Nyx, Noct, and Iris to turn their attention back to their other comrades. “I get the Yokai mask this time, Pelna. You’ll get it next time.”

Pelna rolls his eyes as he grabbed the Oni mask on the table. “That’s what you said last time, you ass.” He beckons for the three outside to join them inside. “We’re ready to leave, Highness.”

“Please, it’s just Noct. Not Highness,” says Noctis, walking inside, followed shortly by Nyx and Iris.

“Alright then _just Noct,_ ” Pelna snickers, causing a disappointed groan from Crowe Altius, who comes out from the bathroom. “What?”

“Please never father children, Pel,” Crowe says with a grimace, swiping the Okami mask from the table. “You’d be insufferable.”

“More than you already are,” adds Libertus with a snort.

“Come on guys, we need to get going. The gate guards were expecting us twenty minutes ago,” says Iris, taking her Kitsune mask from the table and passing Nyx’s Shinigami mask to him. “Everyone should be suited and booted by now. Lib, Pelna, you got our supplies?” The two Glaives pat the sacks strapped around their shoulders. After making sure that everyone was equipped with their weapons, the small scouting party of six left the Kingsglaive headquarters and headed for the main gate on chocobos.

The monthly Scouting Expedition had only been introduced three centuries ago when Noctis made the appeal to his father that they should explore the areas beyond the Insomnian boundaries. After many years, King Regis finally agreed to the expeditions to sate his son’s curiosity. As a result, the borders of Insomnia were broadened and small hunting and fishing villages were set up outside the city, reintroducing a part of their culture that they thought to have been lost. Some of the civilians question the purposes of these expeditions, and if they were to ask the prince themselves, he wouldn’t know the answer. If Noctis was being honest, these scouting expeditions filled his selfish desires to see beyond the safety of the city walls.

“That time of month again, huh? Well go on through, Glaives and uh,” the gate guard stammers at the realisation that Prince Noctis was with them, “Your Highness. Stay safe.”

Libertus grins over to Crowe. “Bet you I can make it across the bridge before you.”

“I’ll take that bet,” smirks Crowe, before urging her chocobo forward, breaking into a sprint across the bridge.

“H-hey! No fair, you started before me!” Libertus cries out before galloping after her, leaving his comrades laughing behind him.

\-----

Three days into their scouting expedition and nothing. Not that Noctis is expecting to find anything, but it would be nice to come home with something that’ll make his father smile. Now they’ve passed the jungles and forestry territories and reached the outer ruins where Noctis used to play as a child. “We should turn back, Your Highness,” says Nyx cautiously, tugging on his reins to keep the animal carrying him calm. The ruins unsettle the chocobos and nearby wildlife.

“We keep going. We’ll be alright,” Noctis says, dismounting from his white-feathered chocobo. “Leave the chocobos here, they won’t follow us in the ruins.”

“Someone should stay with them, in case a coeurl or something attacks them,” Pelna suggests.

“Don’t be a coward, Pelna, you’re coming with us,” Iris says, climbing off her pink-feathered chocobo.

“I’m not a coward!” Pelna hisses. “I just don’t think we should be messing about with the ruins. Call me superstitious, but I believe we’re not meant to see what’s beyond our borders.”

Noctis pays little attention to the squabble behind him and instead walks onward, his blue mask in hand. It’s similar to the Oni mask, only without the horns on the head and painted blue. According to Old Solheim legends, the spirit the mask represents is called the Blue Spirit. “Let him be, Iris. I actually think it’s a good idea for Pelna to stay behind,” he tells her, his voice echoed by the hollow ruins. “Look after the chocobos, and if we’re not back by the end of the week, you can send a rescue party after us.”

Pelna blinks, stunned that Noctis didn’t argue with him. Not that the prince argues, he’s often too tired to do so. “I– yes, Your Highness.”

“I think I preferred _Just Noct_ ,” says Noctis. He beckons the rest of his Glaives to follow after him. “Alright everyone, masks on, weapons out.” Following his commands, the small squadron proceed to put their masks on. The masks’ purpose are to scare away and intimidate nearby creatures, so as to prevent a fight. If it could be helped, Noctis and the Glaives would rather not fight at all. From his armiger, Noctis summons his Engine Blade, a sword given to him by his father on his sixteenth birthday (or was it 600th?) whilst Iris summons her favoured greatsword. The rest took out their various daggers and kukris from their sheaths and venture into the dark of the Insomnian ruins.

\-----

It’s difficult to guess how days had passed since they began but if Ignis were to hazard a guess, he would estimate about a week had passed since they encountered the Marilith. By this time, Prompto has used up over half of his demolitions and explosives and Gladio has used the large drill twice. Ignis couldn’t help but think it’s more than a mistake to destroy ancient architecture, though Gladio would argue that they’re “already ruins anyway” so it didn’t make much of a difference.

“So where are we now, Mr Scientia?” Drautos asks him.

Ignis looks at the tome and raises it up, comparing the sketch in the book to the one in real life. It seems to be a light source of some sort, in the shape of a hive, with an unusual green glow to it. “We’re close,” he tells him, “we have to be.”

“Alright, we’ll make camp here. Good work, Ignis,” Drautos claps him on the back before heading towards the trucks. It’s strange, Ignis thinks. He’s spent a week with the Captain and by now, he should have shaken his unsettled feeling about him, but instead it grows stronger. Drautos is… almost _too_ willing to get to Insomnia.

“Say uh, why’s it glowing?” Cindy asks, a hand on her hip as she waves a wrench at the glowing hive.

“It’s nothing but a natural phosphorescence,” Gladio explains briefly.

“Did you say phosphorus?” Prompto asks, slipping under Gladio’s arm, making the bigger man put his arm around him. “Because I could really use some since _someone_ ,” he gives a pointed glare to Ignis, “got rid of the nitroglycerin.”

“Firstly, it shouldn’t have been in a water flask,” Ignis says in his defence.

“Excuses, excuses,” Prompto tuts before he’s led away by Gladio to pitch up their tent. Ignis is just glad the two haven’t been… intimate during the expedition. Or if they have, he’s glad that they’ve been quiet about it. Then Ignis walks away to start preparing dinner with Takka, since his assistant was tragically killed in the encounter with the Marilith. When Takka goes to serve the food to the men, Ignis takes a fair portion for the Alpha Crew, all of whom are sat around a campfire.

“Dinner is served,” he says, opening the large pot, causing a puff of steam to come out. “Leiden Jambalaya.”

“Get in my belly,” Cindy says, grinning as Ignis gives her a large portion. She takes a big bite and once in her mouth, she sighs with satisfaction. “Sweet Shiva, it takes just like home.”

“At least we have two more-than-decent cooks here. Makes this expedition bearable,” comments Ravus shortly, nodding at Ignis in thanks for his portion of food.

“You’re telling me. Remember that last guy on the Costlemark Expedition? I swear his food was just fried grease on a plate,” Gladio says with a snort. When Ignis finally finishes serving the Jambalaya to the team, he sits down with a plate resting on one thigh, and the tome open on his other. “Ignis, do you never put that book down?”

“Agreed, you must’ve read it several times by now,” says Lunafreya.

Ignis pushes his glasses up with the neck of his spoon before pointing at a page in the tome. “I know, but there’s something quite strange about this passage. You see, the Oracle appears to be leading up to something which she calls the ‘Crystal’ and the ‘Ring of the Lucii’. It’s the first I’ve heard of them but these could be the power source that the legends refer to. I read on but it just cuts off, as if there’s a page missing.”

“Dude, relax,” Prompto says with a laugh, hitting Ignis lightly on the arm. “We’re not getting paid overtime for this.”

“I know, it’s just that sometimes, I get a little carried away. This expedition has been a dream of mine ever since I was a little boy. It’s what it’s all about, right? Discovery, teamwork, adventure?” When he’s met with silence, Ignis continues on. “Unless I’m mistaken and you’re all in it for the money.”

“Oh don’t get me wrong, I love the adventure, but the money’s good,” Gladio says.

“Teamwork doesn’t pay the bills at the end of the month, money does,” answers Ravus.

“I guess I set myself up for that one,” Ignis says with a small smile. He rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly at the aching pain. Sensing his discomfort, Lunafreya stands up and twists his neck, causing the sound of bones and ligaments popping. “Ouch!”

“But you feel better now?”

“Surprisingly yes. May I ask how you learnt how to do that?” Ignis asks.

“During the Tenebraen Civil War,” she explains with a somewhat sad smile on her face. “Halfway through medical school, I was drafted as an army medic. One day I was studying anatomy in a classroom, and the next, I was patching up soldiers on the coast of Ulwaat. One of them being my brother.”

“So that’s how you lost the arm,” says Ignis, now turning his attention to Ravus.

“You’ll lose a lot more than your arm if you ask me more about it,” Ravus threatens, though it comes across empty, given his bored delivery.

“Don’t listen a word to what Ray says,” Cindy tells Ignis. Her accent is certainly more… profound than everyone else’s. “He don’t mean a word of what he says.”

“It’s not for you to say what I do and don’t mean, Miss Aurum,” Ravus says with a slight edge to his words.

Before tensions rise unnecessarily, Ignis cuts in with a question. “Miss Cindy, if you don’t mind my asking, how does someone as young as you become the chief mechanic and engineer of a multimillion gill expedition?”

Cindy smiles at Ignis. “You see, I took this job after my paw-paw retired. He owns the garage in Hammerhead down in Leide and basically raised me as his own when my parents died. He went on the Costlemark Expedition several years back but now he’s just getting too old for this kinda stuff. Now, I’m just saving up so paw-paw and I can open up another garage in Lestallum.”

“And how about you, Prompto? What’s your story?” Ignis asks. “You’re the youngest of us here, no offence intended.”

“None taken, Iggy,” grins Prompto. “No story over here though, I just like shooting things and blowing stuff up.”

Gladio nudges him with his elbow. “C’mon Prom, tell him the truth.”

Prompto sighs and rubs the back of his neck. “I was an orphan, abandoned at birth at an orphanage in Niflheim. I was raised there for practically my whole childhood and… teenager-hood? Is that a word? Anyways, one day, I don’t know, there was a gas leak or something next door and BOOM, no more flower shop. Got blasted through the first floor window and ended up with a broken leg for six months but I guess you could say that I found myself in that boom.”

“So the flower shop beside the orphanage exploded, and that’s how you decided that you wanted to become a demolition and firearms expert?” Ignis questions, almost incredulously.

“Okay maybe it’s not the most conventional way to find my calling, but I found it nonetheless,” says Prompto.

“And what about Gladio?”

“Oh no, it’s way too long to get into at this time of night. Another time, Iggy,” Gladio says. “In fact, we should all be getting into our tents now. Before Loqi starts sleepwalking again.”

\-----

Noctis couldn’t help but venture further as his friends camped and slept. He silently slipped in and out of the rocks, unsure of exactly where he’s going but then he hears it. He hears voices echoed by the stone walls and ruins. He climbs and peeks over the ridge and sees strange shapes on a plateau. What’s stranger still, is that these shapes are carrying people? There are other people? Noctis climbs further down, hiding himself within the crevices of the rocks, obscured by the shadows as he observes these strangers. Who are they? What are they doing here? Where do they come from?

In particular, he observes the group closest to him and Noctis is surprised to understand the language which they speak in. So the Common language still thrives after all. Their clothes are unusual and strangely tight and revealing in some instances. Despite every instinct in his body telling him to leave, Noctis can’t help but feel pulled to these strangers like him. Perhaps they could be the answer to all his questions, the solution for his people’s problems. Still, he doesn’t let his curiosity win over his better judgement. He stealthily makes his way back to the camp, wanting nothing more than to confront the strangers but knowing it cannot be done without reinforcements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, I wanted this to be a really good chapter to bounce back on but sadly, this is more or less than a bridge chapter into the following chapter. Anyways, I'm kinda living for the relationship between Noctis and the Glaives like yes pls. Also, yes, Iris is now a tall buff woman - fight me on this, she inherited the tall Amicitia genes - but she's still as cute as ever. And the Japanese masks are in reference to the masks the Atlanteans wear when they meet Milo and the gang. I researched as much as I could so I could be as accurate but if something is incorrect or offensive, please let me know. Also, just a bonus, Noct's mask is based from Zuko's Blue Spirit mask in A:TLA.


End file.
